Primary concern
by El loopy
Summary: Post 1x13 'Take me back to Hell'. Chloe goes back to the penthouse to see Lucifer. She needs to thank him, she needs to apologise to him and she needs to give him a sharp talking to. Oneshot.


Primary Concern

He was scowling at the mess of broken glass when he heard the lift open. His mind seemed to be an equal chaos of fragments.

"Back so soon," he said dryly. "Did you find her?"

"Who?"

It wasn't his brother's voice and he turned in surprise.

"Detective!"

He hadn't even changed out of the death suit yet. How long had it been? Maybe hours. Must have been. His mind had been pre-occupied. She had changed into more comfortable clothes. Clearly had had a shower to wash the fear off. She stopped in surprise at the same thing.

"You haven't changed yet. How long did they keep you?" The statement writing. A tedious exercise in not lying but not sounding like a crazy human.

"I've been…distracted." He waved his chipped tumbler airily, with a slightly forced smile. "Family business." Her eyes slid past him to the mess of the bar.

"What happened?"

The smile faded. "My brother. We had a…disagreement. I was in the middle of telling you about it when…well…events unfolded." He downed his glass so he didn't have to look at her face; the tight jaw, the guilty eyes. She had suffered enough tonight, he wasn't going to rub it in.

There was a long pause. "Actually…that's what I had come to talk to you about."

He swept his gaze back to her. Of all the things that had happened that night _that_ was her primary concern.

"Go on," his tone was guarded. She looked like she was struggling with something.

"I…wanted to say…I'm sorry for not believing you earlier…"

"…and for pulling your gun on me," he added with a bite.

She shut her eyes and took a steadying breath, "and for pulling my gun on you." She was still struggling with herself, deciding where to say it or not.

"Look, whatever you've come here to say Detective, just come out and say it. Get it off your chest," he waved a hand generally in her direction, too tired even to joke about the delightfulness of said item. "After the day we've had surely we deserve to get a bit of closure." He said it bitterly. There would be no closure for him, not with this deal.

"After the day we've had," Chloe said slowly, a slight choke to her voice, "after what you did for me and Trixie, I don't see how I can…"

Lucifer put his glass down with a solid clunk and turned to face her, palms open, arms wide. "I'm here Detective. Say it."

Her eyes filled and she shook her head and whispered in a choked voice, "How could you?"

He blinked, genuinely bewildered. "How could I what?"

She got a small measure of control with a breath and pointed, jabbed at the floor, down to the nightclub. "How could you just be ready to throw…" she tossed her other hand in the air, "away your life like that?"

Lucifer was frowning. "He wanted to kill you…"

"No," she snapped, voice too high, "not…not with Malcolm. Before then." Oh, with all the guns. When she tried to arrest him. "You could have…dammit, Lucifer, you would have been killed, shot, right in front of me!" She stepped back a little. "I would never have been able to forgive myself."

He hadn't thought about it. Not how it would have affected her. He didn't point out that it had happened later anyway, that he had still been shot in front of her.

"I guess, I figured you wouldn't have cared," he said it slowly, a little sadly.

"Yeah, well," her eyes were full, her jaw stiff, "you were wrong…so…just…don't ever do it again." Her gaze was locked on the stiff, blood-soaked shirt; the hole and burn marks on the cloth barely visible under the red.

He would make no promises he couldn't keep. He would die for her again, bargain with his Father for her life again. The current bargain weighed heavily; his thoughts still shattered. Hopefully he wouldn't have to again.

"I understand," he said instead.

"Good." She nodded once, sharply, and then silence fell, heavy and significant. He wanted to go to her, hold her, but he was conscious of the blood, fearful even now of potential rejection. She cared; that was enough. He didn't want to ruin this moment.

"I better go," she whispered finally, "Trixie…she doesn't want to be without me too long."

He nodded, his own eyes feeling strangely sheened, glad the light would be too dim for her to see it.

"I should get changed," he added lightly. "I'm not up to my usual standard tonight." He caught her weak but genuine smile before she returned to the lift.

"One day you'll have to show me that vanishing trick you pulled," she tried as her final parting shot, pulling their relationship back to where she felt comfortable.

"Not a chance," he replied, trying to mimic her lightness.

She halted the lift's closing doors, to meet his eyes one final time, entirely earnest.

"Thank you, for tonight, again Lucifer."

"You're welcome, Detective."

She smiled. "See you tomorrow." Then she let the doors slide shut.

He looked down at his ruined suit. If he was going to start valuing life like she wanted he supposed he better get out of a dead man's clothes. His Mother could wait that long.


End file.
